


it's a kind of magic

by pandowdy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, M/M, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-07 17:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10365666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandowdy/pseuds/pandowdy
Summary: Keith Kogane is exactly eight years and nine months old when he's forced to come to terms with the fact thatmaybehe's not like the other children in his class.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Some general housekeeping notes:
> 
> \- This fic will follow Keith (and the others by proxy) throughout their seven years at Hogwarts.  
> \- Shiro and Allura are younger than I imagine them to be in the canon purely so I could have them all attending Hogwarts at the same time.  
> \- If you disagree with my housing choices for the Paladins+Allura, please keep it to yourself!  
> \- First chapter is more of a prologue and is fairly short - all subsequent chapters will follow an entire year at Hogwarts each chapter and will be _much_ longer.  
>  \- Please enjoy!

Keith Kogane is exactly eight years and nine months old when he's forced to come to terms with the fact that  _maybe_ he's not like the other children in his class. Of course, over the years there  _have_ been more than a few occasions that have given him cause to suspect that something isn't quite right, moments where he's been forced to wonder if maybe there really is something a little  _off_ about him, but he's never had much reason to give it any real thought.

For the most part, Keith is young, naive and quite happy to brush off the, admittedly, fairly strange things that seem to happen to him on occasion as just some of the quirks of life that must happen to  _everyone_ at some point in time.

But, at eight years and nine months old, even Keith isn't too young and naive to know that being able to walk on water is much more than just a simple quirk.

He doesn't  _mean_ to walk on the water of course (this is something he tries desperately to make his father understand when he returns home later that evening, drenched from the waist down in muddy, stinky, pond water). It just  _happens_.

One minute he's kicking a ball around with a group of kids from school, the next thing he knows, he's being chased through the park by a stray dog and he's more than a little bit afraid.

He doesn't mean to make a beeline for the pond. His plan is actually to follow the pathway  _around_ the pond and hop over the fence into the children's playground where he'll be able to catch the attention of the adult that's  _supposed_ to be watching them, but the dog is snapping loudly at his heels and the only thing he can think of is:  _get away, get away_. So he keeps on running and running and  _running_ until he realises the dog is no longer following him and that he's no longer standing on either concrete  _or_ grass.

Keith barely has the chance to glance down and digest the fact that he's standing on water in the middle of the _pond_ before his gravity-defying grip on the water beneath him fails and he drops.

The pond, thankfully, isn't a deep one and he manages to wade out of it thirty seconds later with mud, grime and possibly duck poop clinging to his lower body. His trainers make an irritating squelching sound as he makes his way back towards dry land, but he supposes there is a silver lining to all of this. _At least_ , he thinks glumly as he heaves himself out of the pond and tries to sluice some of the water and grime off his shorts.  _At least nobody saw me_.

"I saw that."

Keith nearly topples back into the pond.

There's a boy standing just a few metres away from him, a curious look in his eyes. Keith vaguely recognises him as the kid that moved to the neighbourhood a few months ago but, for some reason or other, never turned up at school even though they look like they'd be around the same age.

 _Homeschool_. Keith remembers the word his father had used, chatting conspiratorially with their neighbours when he'd thought Keith wasn't paying attention.

"You didn't see anything," Keith sniffs, trying to muster up as much confidence one can have when they're drenched from the waist down and probably smell vaguely like sewage. "I fell."

Homeschool Kid cocks his head to the side and raises a brow. "I'm not stupid. I saw you running. On the water."

"You  _are_ stupid then," Keith sneers, trying to pull himself up to his full height as he stomps closer towards Homeschool Kid. On closer inspection, he doubts they're the same age. Homeschool Kid is a good few inches taller than him and is looking down at him the way Keith sometimes looks down on  _his_ baby cousins when they're being particularly irritating or childish. Keith scowls and pushes past him. "I  _fell_."

To his irritation, Homeschool Kid keeps up with him easily enough as Keith hurries back through the park to find his friends. "No you didn't."

"Why does it matter?" Keith spits angrily. But he already knows the answer to that question. He starts to pick up the pace as he approaches the clearing where he'd last seen his friends. "Just leave me alone."

"It matters because—"

Keith spots a flash of colour he immediately recognises as one of his friends and runs. He doesn't wait to hear what Homeschool Kid has to say. Doesn't wait to hear someone else confirm what he already knows; what he's already known for a long while now.

Being able to walk— to  _run_ on water isn't normal.  _He's_ not normal.

 

 

His father, predictably, isn't happy when Keith returns home later that afternoon.

Keith spends twenty minutes standing on the mat by the garden door, listening to his father scold him while he attempts to dry him off and sluice some of the mud and grime off his skin.

"You could've  _drowned_ ," he says furiously, running a towel over Keith's hair and down his body again. "What were you doing playing in a pond? Looking for fish? Going for a swim? Hell, were you trying to walk on water?" Keith stiffens and his father pauses. "Is that what you were trying to do?" he asks, eyes narrowing slightly as he leans backwards onto his haunches and stares at Keith questioningly. Keith doesn't answer and instead stares determinedly at his toes. His father puffs out an exasperated breath of air and runs and hand through his hair. "Christ. Keith,  _please_ don't tell me you were trying to walk on water."

"I wasn't," Keith mumbles after a few long seconds of silence. He doesn't feel bad about it because it's not a lie. Not technically anyway. "I was— There was a dog."

His father waits patiently, arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised. "Go on."

Keith swallows and focuses on the old cuckoo clock that sits just above their stove. "I got chased by a dog and— And I fell."

"You  _fell_?"

Keith nods. Again, not technically a lie. It's actually not a lie at all this time.

His father groans and runs a hand down his face. "Keith, that pond doesn't go higher than ankle deep for a good few metres at least and you're soaked up to your  _waist_. Don't stand here and tell me you  _fell_ into that pond. Now," he takes a deep breath and places both hands on Keith's shoulders before squeezing lightly. "Just tell me the truth. You're not in trouble. Did someone make you swim into that pond? Is that what happened? You're not—" Panic flashes in his eyes. "You're not being bullied, are you?"

Keith shakes his head vehemently. "Dad, I'm telling you the tru—"

The doorbell rings.

His father looks like he wants to ignore the sudden interruption but the bells rings again, three times in quick succession and he's forced to acknowledge it. He huffs out an irritated breath as he pushes himself upright, mumbling for Keith to stay on the mat while he continues to dry off before he hurries out of the kitchen. Keith, of course, doesn't listen.

As soon as the kitchen door closes behind his father, Keith scurries across the floor and pokes his head out from behind the door. He can just about make out a woman standing on their porch, smiling brightly as she talks animatedly with his father. Standing just to the side of the woman is a boy. Homeschool Kid to be precise.

Keith feels something unpleasant knot in his stomach as his father takes a step backwards and gestures for them both to enter their home. Keith quietly closes the kitchen door and scurries back to his place on the mat, hoping his father won't notice the trail of grimy pond water he's tracked through their otherwise spotless kitchen.

" _Yeah, he's just through here_."

Keith holds his breath as the door to the kitchen is pushed open and his father reenters the room with the unfamiliar woman and Homeschool Kid in tow. Homeschool Kid catches his eye but Keith immediately looks away.

"Keith?" His father scratches at his chin awkwardly as he leans against the counter and gestures towards the woman and Homeschool Kid. "This Mrs Shirogane from a few doors down and her son Takashi. You, uh, I think you met Takashi in the park earlier today?"

Keith nods slowly but doesn't say a word. He's not sure he  _can_ say anything. His vision is starting to blur with unshed tears and his throat feels almost painfully tight. He chances a peek over at Homeschool Kid -  _Takashi_ \- and tries, without success to read his mind. He wonders what he's told his mother; if she's here to let his father know what that his son is a freak of nature.

His throat tightens again as Takashi's mother closes the gap between them. She crouches down in front of Keith and, to his surprise,  _smiles_ , bright and wide. "Hello sweetie."

Keith nods again. He still doesn't trust his voice.

If she finds his behaviour odd, she doesn't comment on it or even let the tiniest hint of her confusion show on her face. Her smile doesn't falter, in fact, Keith thinks it actually gets a little wider. "How are you today, sweetie?"

"I—" Keith glances over at his father who send him a subtle, yet encouraging, nod. "I'm fine. Thank you," he adds quickly, remembering his manners.

Takashi's mother nods, smile still fixed firmly in place. "That's  _excellent_. Now, Takashi told me about what happened in the park."

Keith's heart  _stops_ for what feels like an eternity and then immediately begins racing, faster than ever as he turns, wide-eyed to stare at Takashi. Takashi smiles at him, but it's not a mocking smile or a disgusted smile, the kind of smile Keith had been fearful of. It's a  _kind_ smile. A genuine smile. The kind of smile that immediately starts to ease some of the turmoil Keith can feel building up inside him.

"I'm glad  _someone_ saw it," Keith father says, shaking his head in relief. "What happened? Is he being bullied? Is that it? Is it that kid from bef—"

"Oh, it's not like that," Takashi's mother says, patting Keith gently on the hand before she stands upright.

Keith's father frowns. "Then—"

And then, as clear as day and as if she were simply commenting on the weather outside, Takashi's mother says: "Your son is a wizard."

Silence echoes around their tiny kitchen as both Keith and his father try to digest the information they've just been told. For Keith, something  _clicks_ inside him like this is something, deep down, he's always known but has just been waiting to have it confirmed for him. His father is less open minded.

"Alright," he says, clapping his hands together before he gestures towards the door. "I thought you'd be able to shed some light on what went on this afternoon, but if you're not—"

"I'm quite serious, Mr Kogane," Takashi's mother says, still smiling that impossibly bright smile. "Your son is a wizard and, with regards to this afternoon, I believe he walked on water."

" _Ran_ ," Takashi corrects with a snort. Keith glares at him, but Takashi's grin only widens, mimicking his mothers.

Keith father glares at the both of them. "I think it's time for you to le—"

Takashi's mother sighs before pulling out a thin brown stick from within one of the many pockets of her cardigan. She glances over at Keith and winks before she turns her attention to the old cuckoo clock sat above the stove. She mutters something under her breath and Keith watches, utterly fascinated, as the wooden cuckoo suddenly bursts free from the confines of the clock and begins flying around the room. It's not wooden anymore.

Keith's father lets out an almost pained sounding groan and clutches at the counters, legs wobbling slightly. Both Takashi and his mother laugh, following the bird as it hurtles around the room, circling their heads. And Keith—

Keith Kogane is exactly eight years and nine months old when he's forced to acknowledge that he's  _definitely_ not like the other children in his class and  _everything_ changes. 


End file.
